Silent
by Assassination
Summary: Dean knows that how he acts with his brother isn't viewed as normal, Sam knows this as well, but both honestly don't care because it's completely natural. [little stories for pure entertainment, done for fun, take note there'll be/be hints of Wincest]
1. Chapter 1

**Bruise**

Dean stared down at his hands resting between his parted knees, fingers loosely interlinked with one another as he bounced his right leg, chest raising and falling as he breathed in and out. In and out. So far Sam and he had been on the road for days, taking turns driving, getting food, directing which way and various other things.

Though at this moment he was waiting for his little brother to get out of the shower so he could take his turn and wash the caked blood off his person.

They'd been hunting a Wendigo and a few vampires, all in the same place. At one point they decided working together wouldn't help them find the things so, reluctantly, they had parted ways to deal with either or.

Sam had returned with a few scratches and bruised ribs, which he brushed off as a minor thing and not to worry about it whereas the elder Winchester sibling had been semi-careful. Covered in blood that wasn't his and a couple nasty bruises from being thrown around. They had gotten the job done though, and that's all that mattered.

A door creaked open and Dean glanced up to see that his brother was standing there with a towel atop his head, clutched in one hand that was having it rub against the water-soaked locks. Emerald hues turned to the side, avoiding letting his sights lower to the dark bluish-purple tint adorning Sam's side.

Which cruelly reminded him how he hadn't been there to shoot that damn Wendigo before it had flung his precious brother across the room like a rag doll, before Sam had regained his senses from the shock and shot at it with the flare gun.

"...shower's free." was all he heard.

Nodding slowly, Dean placed his hand to the mattress to push himself up and made his way over there. He then shut the door before the taller man could turn and repeat what he'd said earlier, "I'm _fine_, Dean."

Dean called bullshit on that either way.

**Moments**

Castiel had been popping up at the wrong moments, the kind where it included awkward staring between the three off them. Dean would stare at Sam, Sam stared at Castiel and Castiel would stare at both brothers. Those awkward moments were mostly after the taller brother had the elder pinned, concluding the fight though they would be in eachother's faces.

The older sibling had always ignored it or brushed it off as Sam being too exhausted to sit up straight. He forced away the thoughts of what else would have happened if the angel hadn't come to tell them where to 'play fetch.' Dean knew that his little brother was irritated whenever the man was around.

He'd seen the frustration, hatred and jealousy flicker in those captivating hazel eyes.

But Dean would change the subject. Always.

After all, neither needed to be damned. Damned more than they already were at this point. Nor did they need to fuel the fire to the demons' arsenal they already had on them. Yet it was also one of those moments where both Winchesters would give anything to have a reason to fight and wrestle about on the floor.

Just for some contact to sate the sickening desire that burned already.

**Sucker**

Sam stared at the screen of his laptop, lazily scrolling through articles of recent mishaps in Mississippi, trying to see if there was something interesting enough to get up off their asses and investigate. He gnawed on the sucker between his teeth, reaching a hand up and pulling it out. Flicking his tongue over his lips, the brunet's muddy spheres darted from side to side, skimming the page to the link he'd clicked.

The taste of root beer lingered on his taste buds, popping it back into his mouth then peering over to his brother whom was laid out on the bed, hands behind his head and left leg hooked over his right's bent knee. Dean's green eyes were halfway shut, lips formed in a straight line with an all-out bored look on his face.

Returning his attention to the screen, Sam began to chew at the sucker once more.

It was better than smoking in his opinion, slightly unhealthy but healthier than puffing away at a fag.

Drumming his free hand's fingertips against the table, he furrowed his brows then raised one. Well, they finally had something to do.

"There's a missing person's case in Ontario,"

"And...?"

"And no one knows how or why they're vanishing. Some are claiming it's a ghost."

The sound of springs squeaking in protest told Sam that Dean had gotten up and felt the other's presence beside him, the elder leaning in then patting his shoulder in an affectionate gesture. "Awesome job, Sammy. Start packing."

Turning his head to look over at the other Winchester, Sam had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at the other being so eager to leave. He blinked slowly he saw Dean grab onto the end of his candy and pull it out of his mouth to pop it into his own then walk away to go pack his things. Reaching his hand out, Sam shut down the laptop then shut it, pushing back from the table with a pout mixed with a smile.

Sometimes he thought that it wasn't so bad deciding to stick around after all.

* * *

><p><strong>Assassination's note:<strong> this is my first attempt at a Supernatural fanfic, please tell me how I did, how I can improve, if one of the characters is _TOO OOC_ or something. (if something sounds like it's worded wrong...my brain wasn't cooperating with me)**  
><strong>  
><strong>edit 510/13:** Fixed it up a bit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Assassination's note: **This is just horrible...it's been two years and I haven't posted anything else on this 'story.' I hope this _kinda_ makes up for it. I kind of doubt it will though... I should also rewatch the other seasons.  
>This takes place in season 4.<p>

* * *

><p><strong>Change<strong>

It wasn't obvious at first, or maybe it was and it just flew over Dean's head. There had been a few drastic changes over the four months he'd been in Hell - okay, maybe a little more than 'a few.' Maybe he hadn't noticed because he had hoped Sam would've kept it together when he died. According to Bobby, though, that wasn't the case.

Sam had stayed at the make-shift grave, adamantly refusing to burn his brother's body, just standing there with the neck of a beer bottle held between two fingers. Simply dangling for a while before the brunet would remember he was holding it. Only to swallow a mouthful and then lower it once more.

Though, c'mon, Dean knew that his little brother was strong. Probably even more than he was. Not that he'd ever tell him that, at least not straight out.

Being in the car with Sam, this 'new and improved' Sam, felt...different. He'd tossed the thought off immediately, brushing it off as just being paranoid since he'd just gotten out of Hell. That nothing was wrong, that Sam was Sam and they were still the team they used to be. Hah, that was a hoot. The brunet had a new air around him.

Now, it was fine and dandy with the elder Winchester that his brother had grown up, don't get him wrong. Independent, mature and getting stronger? He could get behind that.

The only thing Dean couldn't was how he felt a rift between them. Like there was a dark, filthy secret that was being kept from him and it had him grit his teeth when he thought about it. Sure, there was that demonic bitch Ruby but Lilith had tossed her back into Hell. One less thing to worry about at least.

He cast a glance over to the sleeping form beside him.

Whatever Sam was hiding, what he wasn't telling Dean, the man figured it would be told in due time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Assassination's note:** I suppose I could say this one's more T+ (16+) than anything, there's cursing and stuff. All that jazz. Along with a suggestive drink name that I'm a little reluctant to reveal - I mean...it's not _that_ bad, but since fanfiction has become more stern with its rules and stuff...well, I guess I'll just say this then: pick whatever dirty drink name you want! *throws confetti*

* * *

><p><strong>Don't drink That<strong>

Dean didn't get what this asshole's problem was, and he wasn't just saying it because he didn't like the guy. No. Since the moment his brother and he walked into the bar this guy has been eying Sam like he was a slab of meat. Prime and cooked to perfection - something like that. Point was: the elder Winchester's hackles were raised by this.

It was just flat-out irritating how this random bloke just thinks he can get away with what he's doing. Normally, he'd ignore this kind of thing. After all, Sam had this air about him that drew people in, but the staring was anything but discreet. The man was making it plain obvious his sights were somewhere they shouldn't be -

An irritated huff of, "Dean." caught his attention.

Returning his attention to the younger, Dean offered up a smile once he noticed the scowl tossed in his direction. The twenty-six year old didn't even bother trying to make Sam believe he was really listening. Instead he reached over to tap the sheets within the brunet's grasp, his grin growing. "You have my undivided attention, _Sammy_."

As he said this in '_that_' kind of tone, he cast a glance to the snob at the bar. Oh, the look he saw was just priceless.

Sam, however, had returned his attention back down on the papers in his hands. "As I was saying..." he continued, oblivious to his brother's antics. Said antics being pissing some random patron off. "The autopsy showed that the woman's injuries weren't caused by any kind of animal they could think of." On and on he went, shuffling through the small stack as his hazel eyes ran over the text and picture of the autopsy.

Crossing his arms, Dean rested them atop the table, leaning forth slightly. Listening but also keeping an eye on the guy across the room.

"- but they did find fur under her nails."

"So we're dealing with the Big Bad Wolf."

Hazel eyes rose from the text, blinking once he noticed a woman heading their way with a cocktail. Dean's eyes narrowed at it before they widened, because - _holy shit_ - that was not a drink he was going to let Sam have. No way. No how. He wasn't even sure he wanted his brother to know what it was, half-hoping and half-not that Sam did.

Because, really, who in their right mind would send _that_ to someone?

Forget the eyecandy standing in front of them, the elder Winchester glared at the one responsible for this drink that was now being offered to his sibling.

"From the young man over there." she informed once she set down the glass, motioning over to the bar.

Okay, so _maybe_ the man wasn't that bad looking - but if he dared to even try and date Sam, his face would meet Dean's fist faster than he could say, 'Hi.' If Sam even swung that way.

"Um...thank you?" The tall Winchester looked perplexed, gaze dropping down to the drink. With a slight shrug, the waitress made her way to another table, most likely to get away from a tense Dean. Raising a hand, Sam reached for the glass -

"Don't drink that." Dean hissed, his shoulders tensing like the rest of him.

Sam looked at the elder with a surprised expression, his features soon turning into confusion while he pushed the cocktail aside. "I wasn't going to. What's gotten into you anyway?" He didn't even bother to complain when Dean moved it even farther away, setting it near the edge of the table and out of their sight. "Dude."

The older man huffed, nose scrunching up as he took his hand away from the cocktail. He rubbed it against his jeans in a way of indicating that he was trying to rid his hand of germs. "First that guy at the frat party, now this. Really, Sam? Are you some kind of 'guy magnet?'"

"That -" Sam bit back his comment on how Dean was probably more of a 'dude magnet' than he was. Really...has his brother not seen the looks tossed his way sometimes? "No. Okay? It's not like I'm doing it on purpose."

"Oh, so you _are_ trying to get some?"

Clenching his jaw, the brunet's muscles in his arms flexed. Sam's scowl was back in full force, picking up the papers and reading them once more. Best to ignore Dean, who was probably jumping to conclusions and most likely one of them being that his little brother batted for both teams. Which wasn't true, not in the slightest - well...that was debatable.

Kind of.


End file.
